


Quentin Beck Rules the World

by Starkiller007



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Deal with a Devil, Humiliation, Intern!Peter, M/M, Manipulation, Mind Games, Slow Burn, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-11-02 10:24:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20713781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starkiller007/pseuds/Starkiller007
Summary: Peter Parker starts his first day as an intern at Mysterio Inc. and quickly develops a crush on Quentin Beck, the CEO. Little does he know that Mr. Beck has one overriding mission crucial to his plans: corrupt Peter Parker’s soul.





	1. Chapter 1

“Are you afraid of me?” 

Mr. Beck’s voice rolls over Peter’s skin and he shivers. He stares at the man in front of him, but doesn’t meet his eyes; just stares straight ahead at the nape of Mr. Beck’s neck, the knot in his tie, the stubble over his chin. The perfectly pressed suit, coiffed hair, polished shoes, the faint smell of cologne… No, Peter wasn’t afraid of Quentin Beck…. Was he? 

Peter forced himself to look up into the CEOs eyes and willed his voice not to tremble. “No, sir.” 

Quentin laughed. “Are you sure?”

“No, sir… I mean… I…,” His voice trails off and Peter looks down sheepishly. “I don’t know.” He really didn’t. He definitely felt intimidated by Mr. Beck. The whole company really. Peter felt like he didn’t fit in. He wore his best clothes and shoes, but they were a little worn and a few years out of date fashion wise. Peter had never cared about that before, but now standing in front of Quentin Beck who somehow looked so perfect in every way, suddenly Peter did care. 

Peter had retreated to the break room, not expecting to run right into the frickin’ CEO of Mysterio Inc. Peter had ran right into him in his haste to find some place to be alone and now he felt like he had run right into the spotlight. He had stumbled back and gaped up at Mr. Beck, unable to form words. Peter wanted to kick himself. He must have looked like a total doofus. 

“Hey, it’s okay, kid. I remember my first day of work. I was intimidated. A little scared. It’s okay. Here…” Quentin moves to the counter and grabs the coffee pot. “How about I pour you a cup?” He grins. “Just don’t expect it every time.” He pours the coffee and hands it to Peter. “You just look like you could use it.” 

“Thanks, Mr. Beck. But I’m okay. Just nervous cuz it’s my first day, I guess.” Peter doesn’t drink coffee; it was too hot and too bitter but he sipped it anyway. 

“You should probably get back out there before somebody starts missing you.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Peter laughs nervously. He glances at Beck’s lips as they curve into a tight smile, then quickly looks away, cheeks hot; embarrassed he’d been caught looking. 

Beck had definitely noticed because he smirked and glanced down at Peter’s lips before turning to pour some coffee into another cheap styrofoam cup. 

“How old are you?” asks Mr. Beck. He’d definitely noticed and was now peering with an uncomfortable intensity into Peter’s eyes, his gaze holding Peter’s like it was a hostage. 

“Um, I just turned eighteen, sir.” 

Beck bites the styrofoam cup and when he lowers it he can see a perfect imprint of Beck’s teeth. Peter can’t help but wonder what that bite would look like on his own skin. 

“Eighteen? Wow, your resume must’ve looked pretty good to be hired here at that age. Normally our interns are all college graduates.” 

“Just lucky I guess….” Peter shifts, suddenly feeling inadequate, worrying that he might be fired on his first day. 

“Whoever picked you is getting a raise.” 

Before Peter’s brain can figure out whether that sounds like approval or not, a strong hand is grabbing him from behind. “Hey, intern! You’re not supposed to be in here!” Bucky Barnes, Beck’s bodyguard and head of security nearly manhandles him back from Mr. Beck. 

Peter is absolutely mortified and shaking in his shoes as Bucky holds his arm so firmly it hurt. He was definitely going to have a bruise there. But the pain paled in comparison to the anxiety at the pit of Peter’s stomach. Had he just messed up?

“Is he bothering you, sir? I’m so sorry, I didn’t see him come in here and I assure you it won’t happen again.” Bucky speaks so deferentially to Beck. Peter had seen the big man in photos, walking next to Quentin, pushing back the paparazzi, but he had never seen him in person and had no concept of how tall he was. He towered over Peter, making him feel so small and insignificant. And his grip. Peter winced. 

Quentin just leans against the counter, sipping coffee and biting that damned styrofoam cup and Peter shivered because he wanted Quentin to bite him. And Peter was not supposed to be thinking that since he now worked for the guy. Worse, that Quentin scrutinizes his face, peering at him so intensely that Peter was convinced the man knew exactly what he was thinking. Knew exactly the effect biting that styrofoam would have on Peter; the sight of those clear, crisp bite marks making it all the harder not to look at the boss’s lips. “If he’s naughty again, send him to my office for a spanking.” 

“You got it, sir.” And with that, Bucky hauls Peter out of there, bringing them both back out into the sterile white hallway, with the skyrise windows looking out to the whole city. Peter felt like he was on the edge of a cliff and didn’t know if it was because he’d just been staring at a man he’d only ever seen on TV before, or because staring out this window so high up made him feel dizzy. 

“Toe the line, kid.” Bucky’s voice snaps him back to reality and he yanks his arm away and looks up at the bodyguard. 

“I’m not a kid!” Peter bristled at being called a *kid*. He’d been a *kid* his whole life. This was his first job, his first foray into the adult world and he didn’t want to be seen as or called a kid anymore. 

“Oh, really?” Bucky smirks. 

“I-- I just turned eighteen. I’m not a kid anymore.”

Bucky leans forward incredulously, like he was about to burst out laughing but held it back. “Oh you just turned eighteen? That’s really helping your case, kid.” Bucky slaps his cheek lightly. “Now get back to work, precious.”

Peter was pretty sure that was an HR violation, but seeing as how it was his first day on any job, he wasn’t about to make waves. He just compresses his lips to a flat line and glares up at Bucky.

Bucky’s face just lights up in amusement. “Are you gonna make me send you to Mr. Beck’s office, Peter?” 

“What?…. No! I gotta get back with the others.” Peter turns, and heads down the hallway looking for the large room that contained all the interns. 

He can hear Bucky’s laughter behind him and couldn’t walk away fast enough. But Peter had went the wrong way, stopping and realizing he had to turn around and go back the other way. 

But by the time he turned around, Bucky was still just outside the break room but now he was grouped up with Wade Wilson and Mr. Loki, senior partners in the tech company. Peter walks back, his ears and face burning because he can hear Bucky saying, “The kid’s just glaring at me and I know what Mr. Beck wants---” He stops speaking when Peter gets closer. 

“Yeah, kid. You went the wrong way,” Bucky smirks. Mr. Wilson and Mr. Loki just stare at Peter, amused. 

“Getting lost already, are you?” Loki asked, condescendingly. 

“No, sir. I just went the wrong way but I’m heading back now.” Peter feels so out of his depth now and considers quitting on the spot. All he had to do was walk back down the hallway and find safety in the group of interns he’d been placed with. 

“Need a map, baby boy?” Wade quips, staring at his butt as he walks by. 

“Ha ha,” Peter says, not amused at all and eyeing all three of them as he walks past and down the hall. He has the feeling of three phantom pairs of eyes roaming his body as he finally escapes to safety, finding the big door that led to the main classroom where he was training with the other interns.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's second day at his internship gets off to a terrible start.

Peter’s first day of his internship ended easily enough. Training modules and things about the history of the company. The kind of training you get when the company is trying to make you feel better about being the office gopher. You study so long and work so hard and spend the first year bringing people coffee and doing whatever random things nobody else wanted to do. 

Though he was shook up from his encounter with the most powerful people there, Peter was also excited. Sure, Mr. Beck has basically kicked him out of the break room and Bucky Barnes had nearly broken his arm manhandling him out of there, Quentin had poured him a cup of coffee. 

Maybe it was a small thing, a small act of mercy from a powerful man, but Peter couldn’t stop thinking about it. Couldn’t stop thinking about that perfect bite mark Quentin had left in the cup. 

Okay yeah, he had a crush He’d had a crush before meeting Quentin Beck in the flesh…. What did he have now? Fuck, an obsession? An infatuation. No, no, no. Peter had to play it cool. That’s what he told himself at least when he’d headed back home on the train, back to the small apartment in Queen he still shared with Aunt May. 

She isn’t home to welcome him when he gets back, so he goes straight to his room and tears out of his clothes, ripping them off as fast as he could. He lays down on his bed naked and thinks about Quentin Beck. Pours over his head in detail every thing he could remember, everything Quentin had said, every look he’d given him. The way his lips had quirked into a little grin when Peter had told him his age. 

And especially when Quentin had offered to spank him…. Had that been real? Was that just funny office humor and Peter was reading too much into it? Maybe it was, but that didn’t stop his cock from stiffening in his hands as he thinks about entering Quentin’s office and the CEO turning him over his knees to spank him…. Then leaning him over his desk….. He just needs to release this pressure and tension built up from the day as he pumps his little cock with his fist. 

He’s imagining Quentin telling him what a naughty boy he’s been---

“Peter! Are you here? How was your first day?” May’s voice calls out and Peter can hear her padding across the apartment to come knock on his door. “Peter!”

“Just one second!” he calls out, scrambling to get up and pull the blanket over his waist. Dammit. He had been so close. 

“Okay, I’ll cook dinner and you can tell me all about it!” He listens as May moves around the living room. 

He wants to finish, but he just can’t knowing Aunt May is out there waiting for him. 

May cooks spaghetti and throughout dinner, Peter tries not to bring up the CEO, but eventually it just slips out because he can’t stop thinking about the man. “I ran into the CEO today. You know, Quentin Beck. The founder.” 

“Quentin Beck... That man is all over the tabloids right now. I kept seeing his face everywhere and I couldn’t stop thinking about you and you working there now! So exciting, Peter.” 

Peter laughs nervously. “Oh, well, you know how tabloids are. They just blow everything out of proportion. Anything for a scoop, right.” 

“So what was he like?”

“He was… a really nice dude. He poured me a cup of coffee. I think knew I was nervous and…. He was just nice. Really nice.” 

“Well that’s good.” May doesn’t think anything of it and Peter changes the subject. He shouldn’t be obsessing over the man and he was sure it would pass in a few days, especially once Peter got over being starstruck. That’s all it was, wasn’t it? Peter was starstruck. 

So ended Peter’s first day of his internship. 

The second day….. The second day was a nightmare. 

It started off well enough. Peter arrived to the massive green and black glass building of Mysterio Inc. and he was dressed properly and on time. He’d taken time to do his hair, to wear the nicest clothes he had, a crisp white shirt and tie, with a soft charcoal jacket, black belt and shoes. He’d spent time on the beauty and fashion channels of youtube trying to figure out how to make a better appearance. Maybe he still wasn’t great at it, not nearly as posh and stylish as Mr. Beck or the other men who worked in the company, but Peter thought he had done an okay job. 

He felt more stylish and willed himself to walk down the street confidently. As he approached the entrance, he stared up at the glass windows and tried to imagine meeting Mr. Beck again and maybe things going better next time. Maybe Peter would get an opportunity to make a better impression, to show him how hard he was willing to work. 

Unfortunately, so wrapped up in his thoughts was he that he didn’t notice the man moving far too fast towards him, only saw the white coffee cup out of the corner of his eye, and had no time to react as he collided with the man and the coffee cup, and scathing hot coffee spilled over Peter’s chest, over his jacket and his crisp white shirt that he’d taken so much time to iron that morning. 

Luckily, his charcoal jacket absorbed most of it and the pain wasn’t too bad, but Peter stood there stunned. Even more so when he looked up to see just who he had ran into and it was one of the men from yesterday, Loki. And right now, Loki’s lips were curled into an angry sneer that sent a jolt of fear into Peter’s heart. 

“Um, Mr. Loki! I’m so sorry!” Peter covers his mouth as he sees the angry looking men behind Loki who were glaring at him. His bodyguards? In the back of Peter’s head he wondered why the building and the men who worked there were so bent on security? But he doesn’t have much time to think about that when Loki steps right into his face. 

“Parker, right? I remember you from yesterday,” Loki sneered down at him and Peter wilted under his scathing gaze. The man was standing too close, but Peter was afraid to move. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Did… did any get on you?” Peter stammers, terrified. 

“You didn’t spill any on me and if you had I would make sure you lost this job. So count yourself lucky, Parker.” Loki takes a long look down Peter’s chest. The coffee covered the front of his shirt entirely. “Aren’t you a mess now. Not a very good impression for your second day, is it, Mr. Parker?” Loki’s lips quirk in amusement. 

“Do you…. Do you want me to get you another one, Mr. Loki, sir?” Peter wanted to ask what Loki’s full name was, but was too afraid to ask. 

Loki stares at Peter’s face for an unbearably long moment and then touches Peter’s cheek, a soft brushing touch. “You’re trying so hard, aren’t you? Yes, I would like you to get me another one. A vanilla latte. And do hurry.” Loki reached into his pocket and pulled out a hundred dollar bill and pushed it into Peter’s pocket. “I have a meeting starting soon and I do hate to be without a decent cup of coffee.”

Peter’s heart was pounding and he didn’t know why. Loki was being nice, wasn’t he? But Peter was the one covered in coffee. He glances at Loki’s bodyguards who seemed like the meanest people on Earth right now, and then back to Loki’s face, Peter searching for a shred of empathy. “Um, where…. Do you have a preference?” 

Loki smiles patiently and points at the Starbucks across the street. 

Peter breathes a sigh of relief. “Oh, okay, got it.”

“Oh yes, you better get it. Go quick before I decide to fire you.” Before Peter could react, Loki was already walking into the building, his bodyguards rudely brushing past the boy. 

And that was the end to what Peter had hoped would be a promising start for his day. He went to the starbucks, enduring the scrutiny of the people inside as they eyed his now dishevelled appearance. He gets the latte and then heads as fast as he could back into the building. If he hurried, he might only be a few minutes late and hopefully they would understand why he was late. 

He gets past security and heads up the elevator. He takes asks the receptionist where Loki’s office was and she directs him to the board room where he was in a meeting. 

He opens the door to the massive meeting room. It’s nearly empty, just Quentin Beck, Wade Wilson, and Loki sitting at the massive table. They were talking, but go quiet as soon as Peter enters and the three stare right at him. 

“Um, I brought the coffee?” he says, feeling awkward for interrupting. 

“Well bring it here, boy. We don’t pay you to dally around in doorways,” Loki snaps at him, his voice booming across the room. 

Quentin Beck sits at the head, sitting with his legs spread apart, resting his chin on his fist, casual and relaxed. Just the sight of him sends a surge of excitement through Peter, though he wished it didn’t. Peter wished desperately that he didn’t care what people thought of him right now as he scurried over to Loki, still having the big coffee stain on his shirt. He knew he looked ridiculous and now Quentin was looking at him and if Peter had made a poor impression before, it was utterly wrecked by now. 

He sets the coffee in front of Loki, trying not to look at Quentin. Wade Wilson sits across from Loki, looking at him curiously. He winks as Peter glances his way. 

“This isn’t what I asked for.” Loki grips the cup and looks at Peter, his eyes burning with annoyance, and Peter just wanted to drop straight into the ground, through the Earth’s core and burn to ash rather than continue to endure Loki’s gaze. 

“It’s a vanilla latte.” 

“I asked for a mocha.”

“I thought you asked for a vanilla latte….”

“I didn’t. Why are you contradicting me, boy? Clearly your brain is addled and your memory opaque. I asked for a mocha and you bring me this utter garbage? I’m insulted.” 

“But I thought that’s what you wanted. Do you want me to go get you another one?”

Loki picked up the coffee and stood up, standing face to face with Peter. “No, I don’t. I want you to have done it right the first time.”

“Please, Mr. Loki. I assure you it won’t happen again.” Peter was beginning to wonder what he even did wrong? It was just a coffee and wasn’t Loki the one to spill coffee on him in the first place? But it’s hard to open his mouth to defend himself when he feels like a mere insect caught in Loki’s grip. 

“I don’t give second chances,” Loki says coldly, his eyes like winter. 

“But… you’re wrong….”

Loki raises an eyebrow. “I’m wrong?”

“Um…. No, sir.”

“Maybe I’m not making myself clear enough, Mr. Parker.” He takes the lid off and then pours the entire thing over Peter’s head. “I’m done with you.”

The boardroom is dead quiet. Everybody just stares at Peter as the latte drips down his body, soaking his clothes, ruining his hair. He blinks it out of his eyes as it pours down his face. Luckily the latte had cooled a bit from it’s journey up here, but was still quite hot and Peter was just mortified. And pissed off. And completely covered in coffee. But mostly he just really wants to to hide somewhere and cry. He never wants to see any of these faces again. 

Loki sits back down and waves Peter away. “This boy can’t do anything right. I want him fired.”

“What?” the pain and shock in his voice is palpable and Peter looks at Loki. 

“Is something wrong with your ears as well?” Loki doesn’t even look at him. He just starts doing something on his phone, not even paying attention to Peter any more. “Can we get this meeting started?”

“I have the quarterly report,” Wade says, seeming unconcerned about the coffee covered intern. 

Peter’s eyes tear up. Surely, he can fix this? “It was just a mistake… Please! I’ll do better next time.” Once the tears start, Peter can’t seem to stop them. He stares at the floor, listless and in shock. Had he already lost his job so quickly? And it wasn’t even twenty minutes past nine in the morning. He couldn’t look up, couldn’t meet Quentin’s or Wade’s face. He was utterly humiliated. 

He needs to get out of here right now. He turns, moving like his body was made of clay and starts walking towards the door. 

“Peter, stop.” The voice is Quentin Beck’s, who had been silent until now. His voice is as silky smooth as Peter remembered it, still managing to roll through Peter’s body and make him shiver with pleasure. 

Peter stops, and whispers “I’m sorry.” Though he doubted anyone could hear him. 

“Look at him. He’s a complete wreck.” Loki’s voice still had that frosty edge to it. 

“Because you just spilled coffee on him.” Quentin presses his comm. “Mr. Barnes, I need you in my office right now.” 

“He’s too young to be here and whoever hired him should also be fired for gross incompetence.” 

“I think he’s cute,” Wade says. 

“Compared to the troglodytes you’re used too, Mr. Wilson, I’m sure he is.” 

“Do you wake up like this, or does it take time to warm up to this level of bitchiness?” Wade said, sounding genuinely curious. 

Loki glares at Wade. 

Wade stupidly smiles back. “So it takes warming up then?” 

Bucky enters the office, moving with a purpose into the center of the room. “Yes, sir?” 

“Mr. Barnes, please take Mr. Parker to my office and make sure he doesn’t leave.” Quentin sounds mostly unconcerned and Peter has never felt so incredibly out of his element as he did right now. 

“My pleasure, sir.” Bucky turned to Peter and grinned. “Come on.” 

“I’m not going with you!” Peter had been treated badly enough and he wasn’t about to be manhandled as well. 

“Oh, yes you are. Come along.” He reaches out for Peter, but Peter moves away. 

“But…. wait!” Peter’s objections were cut off when Bucky surges forward and puts one firm hand over Peter’s mouth and the other on the back of his head. 

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes,” Quentin says, looking at the report Wade slide over to him. 

Becky nods and with a firm grip on Peter’s head forced him along towards the door. He could hear somebody laughing but couldn’t tell who, though it sounded like Wade. There was absolutely nothing Peter could see that was funny about this situation. Not that it mattered because nobody seemed to care about Peter here. It was worse than any bullying Peter had endured in grade school Is this what having a job was supposed to feel like? Peter was so humiliated and he couldn’t even think clearly with Bucky pulling him along, the man’s hand strong enough that it completely cut off his air supply. 

Bucky hauls Peter down the hallway, the heavy door slamming behind them. Peter tries to fight him off, struggling all the way, tries to get air into his lungs. He slaps his hands at Bucky, trying to indicate the lack of oxygen, but Peter is no match for Bucky at all, the man’s grip like a vice. 

As they pass Betty, Quentin’s secretary, she barely looks up as she pushes the button that unlocks and opens the door to Quentin’s office. If she noticed that Bucky was manhandling Peter, she didn’t show it. 

Bucky pushes him into Quentin’s office. He finally let’s go, leaving Peter to fall to his knees, gasping for air. He turns back to Bucky and scowls at him. “You can’t treat me like this!” 

Bucky just smirked down at him, standing in front of the door with his arms crossed, looming over Peter. “What are you gonna do about it, kid? I told you to toe the line.”

“I did! I was trying to!” Peter stands up and balls his hands into fists, facing down Bucky. “You’re not allowed to do that! You can’t…. You can’t touch me!” He moves into a less aggressive stance, too afraid to get into a fight with Bucky -- in fact, he was quaking in his shoes at the mere thought, the man would pound him into the ground and Peter wouldn’t stand a chance. So he tried to walk calmly to where Bucky blocked the door. “I want to leave.” 

“You can leave when Mr. Beck says you can leave.”

“I can leave now because I am quitting! I don’t want to work here anymore.” 

“Giving up so easily?”

“You saw what happened in there! And you....!” Peter points accusingly at Bucky. “I have a bruise on my arm from yesterday and I’m pretty sure you’re not allowed to treat me like that. I… I could sue!” 

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you it’s rude to point?” Bucky stepped forward and grabbed Peter’s hand, twisting it and forcing Peter down to his knees. 

“Stop, stop, stop!” Peter squeaks, almost on the verge of tears again. 

“Now are you going to behave and be a good boy?”

“Yes, yes, yes! I will!” 

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir!” Peter squeaks out because it just seemed like the proper response. 

“Good boy. You’re a little slow, but you’re learning.” He lets go of Peter’s arm. 

This time Peter, stays on his knees, afraid to get up. He stares up at Bucky. “You’re really mean, you know that?”

Bucky smirks. “You haven’t seen me mean yet. Get up. Go wait for Mr. Beck over there.” Bucky points to a large circular black rug in front of Quentin’s desk. 

Peter gets up and points to the middle of the rug. “Right here?”

Bucky nods. 

“You want me to just stand… or sit here til he comes? While he’s in the meeting?” Peter stands in the center of the rug, feeling awkward as hell and more than a little angry. 

“I only follow orders. So yes. That’s what we’re going to do.” 

“Like a machine.”

Bucky laughs. “Something like that.” 

“Um, Mr. Barnes?”

“What?”

“Is something bad going to happen to me?” Peter asks meekly. 

Bucky looks at him, but doesn’t answer and it sends a chill down Peter’s spine. What had he just gotten himself into? He despairs, his mind a jumble of thoughts and emotions, his insecurities surfacing, unable to form an opinion on what had just happened. After a few minutes, he shrugs his jacket off, which was completely ruined. His phone had been in his pocket and was now covered in sticky, vanilla latte. 

He would have to get a new phone now. Only he likely wouldn’t have the money now since he was certain to lose his job. How had things gotten so bad on only his second day? Was he really that bad of an employee? All his hopes from the morning were dashed and Peter despaired. 

He waited there for half an hour in silence. He was afraid to talk to Bucky and the man seemed to have no desire to talk to him, only to stand there at the doorway, looking completely bored, and completely uninterested in Peter. 

Mr. Beck finally shows up. Peter jolts to attention, his nerves on edge. 

“Sorry about that,” Quentin says, sauntering into the office, a stack of papers in his hand. Peter stares at him eagerly, standing at full attention as Quentin wanders to his desk, not looking at Peter. He sets the stack of papers down, and finally deigns to glance Peter’s way. 

“You okay, kid?” He sounded so concerned suddenly and something about that started to bother Peter. Peter couldn’t tell if Quentin actually cared or just wanted to crush him like a spider beneath his boot, as Mr. Loki did. 

“Am I fired, Mr. Beck?”

Quentin smiles. “You’re not fired, Peter.” 

“Is something bad going to happen to me? Why am I here?”

“Peter, calm down. Let’s get you out of those clothes. You’re still dripping coffee all over the place.”

“I’m sorry,” Peter squeezes his eyes shut, unable to hold back the tears that spilled out. 

“Hey, I know it’s not your fault.”

“You do?”

“You’re having a bad day, Peter. That’s all.” 

“What? No!” Quentin’s voice sounded so kind and calm, but his words sparked anger in Peter’s chest, the rage stabbing him as if through the heart. “Well, yeah… But it wasn’t….” He chokes down more sobs. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this… I tried, I tried really hard, and then… Outside, he spilled it on me….” 

“Well, I’m gonna get you a brand new suit then.” Quentin moves over to Peter and his hands start pulling Peter’s shirt out of his belt and unbuttoning it. “He was a real jerk to you back there.”

“Thank you….” Peter wondered if he should stop Mr. Beck from undressing him, but he’s so relieved to have somebody on his side after what just happened. “Mr. Beck, I--” 

Beck places a finger over Peter’s lips. “Hush now. I’m just gonna get you cleaned up, okay?”

Peter takes a shaky breath and nods. 

Quentin deflly undoes the buttons of Peter’s shirt. “Hmm, I’m not very good with ties, so I’ll have to leave this on.” He pulls Peter’s collar out from beneath the tie, pushing the coffee stained shirt off of Peter’s shoulders and tossing it to the floor. Now Peter was just in a white tank top with a tie around his neck. 

Quentin untucks the tank top from his pants and pulls it up over Peter’s head. His hands go to Peter’s belt undoing it and Peter suddenly feels extremely self conscious. And also grateful that he showered and groomed himself, just in case something like this happened -- not that he expected it would. Or… that that’s what this is? Was it?

His heart pounds as Beck undoes his belt, and the buttons of his pants. He steps back. “You’re gonna have to take off your shoes yourself, kid.” 

“Um… yeah….” Peter bends down, undoing his shoe laces and stepping out of his shoes, standing there in his socks and pants. Beck takes over and pushes Peter’s pants down, his hands around Peter’s waist, holding him way too close. Peter glances at the door, where Bucky still stood guard, gazing out the window with that same bored expression on his face. 

Mr. Beck is pushing his pants down. Peter steps out of them, now acutely aware that he was only wearing a tie around his neck, boxers, and his knee high black socks. Beck is still standing way too close to him, but he feels safer the closer he is. Peter has never been naked in front of anyone before and this is the closest he’s ever been to a man who had been the subject of his fantasies for the past few years. 

“I’ll have my secretary press these and have a new suit tailored for you.”

“Th-thank you, Mr. Beck. That’s really nice of you.” Peter looks up into Quentin’s face, wishing he would close the few inches of distance between them. 

“Lose the boxers.” 

“But…. but… Mr. Beck…..” 

“What’s the matter, kid? Shy? Want me to turn my back to save your modesty?” Beck sounds amused as he moves away. Peter stomach drops and he loses the comfort of Beck’s closeness, his hopes for intimacy dashed when Beck stepped away, being replaced by sheer embarrassment. Beck picks up his phone and starts texting, probably his secretary, Peter assumed. “I’m getting you a brand new suit, Peter. It’s just the two of us. Lose ‘em.”

Peter takes one last glance at Bucky, who isn’t even looking. Was Peter so beneath the man’s notice that him standing naked in Beck’s office wasn’t even novel to the man? Peter felt alone and isolated as the two men ignored him. He pushed his boxers down to his feet and gingerly stepped out of them, leaving them on the floor and immediately covering his private parts with his hands. 

He wanted to die. He absolutely wanted to die. Or maybe he was dead already and this was hell? 

Just as Peter thought things couldn’t possibly get any worse, Loki barges in. “I want this boy fired.” 

Peter’s heart raced and he desperately wanted to dart away and find some place to hide, but Mr. Beck stopped him, pointing and saying, “Peter, stay.” Peter felt compelled to obey. And suddenly he couldn’t move, rooted to the spot; his tie hanging around his neck like a noose. He was mortified, covering his cock as an enraged Loki stalked towards Quentin. 

The gods took no pity on Peter that day and the barometer for worse and worse kept descending, because when Loki and Quentin stood in front of him, glaring daggers at each other, Peter’s skin flushed red, his whole body blushing, and his cock stiffened beneath his hands, and Peter, afraid he wouldn’t be able to hide it, looked down and whimpered. 

And when he whimpered, it attracted their attention and they both looked at him, then followed his gaze down, noticing his fully erect cock, barely held down by Peter’s hands. 

Peter looked up and Loki caught his eyes. Loki was smirking. “Somebody’s a very naughty boy.” 

Peter looked to Quentin for help. Quentin smiles wickedly and Peter melts. This was Peter’s second day of work and it was barely 10:30 AM. Peter had no idea that by the time 5 PM rolled around, his perception of the day would have completely changed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin gets cock blocked by his business partners.

The boy was so close, so ripe for plucking and practically begging for Quentin’s touch. Not with his words, but Quentin could see how hot the boy was for him. Quentin could see the boy’s desperate need for approval, for intimacy.... And Quentin just wanted to give him that. He was so close to getting what he wanted in record time. The moment he’d seen the boy’s resume and googled him online, Quentin knew he had to have him. He hadn’t been able to get that sweet, innocent face out of his mind. So he’d hired him even though they didn’t have room for another intern. But Quentin didn’t care. He just wanted to fuck and get it out of his system. And who the fuck would stop him? It was Quentin’s company and he would do whatever the fuck he wanted. 

But he’d made a mistake, not expecting Loki Laufeyson to covet the boy as well. Or did he just want to frustrate Quentin? Maybe both. 

Quentin had Peter naked in his office, quivering for his touch and now that was getting ruined. “Mr. Laufeyson, thank you for your concern but I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I’ve got important business to take care of.” Quentin uses his most serious tone, willing Loki to leave and just acknowledge that Quentin had won. 

“You think I’m just going to leave while you while away the day getting your cock wet?” Of course Loki wouldn’t let him win their bet so easily. 

“No!” Peter’s voice surprised them both, as if they’d temporarily forgotten he was a person and not a mere chess piece in their game of sexual conquests. They both look at him and it makes Peter blush. Quentin’s heart leaped at the sight. Peter continues, “Nobody’s…. Getting their cock wet. I mean… not that I’m assuming anything!” Peter turned around and covered his face with his hands. Quentin reveled in the intern’s embarrassment. One glance at Loki’s face and he could tell the other did too. Well, they were friends for a reason. 

Peter had clearly meant to turn around for some modicum of modesty, but it didn’t help him much as Quentin greatly enjoyed the sight of Peter’s perfectly shaped ass. 

“Peter, Peter, it’s okay buddy.” Quentin puts his hands on Peter’s shoulders and turns to glare at Loki. “I’m gonna get this asshole out of here and get you cleaned up.”

Quentin was about to have Bucky throw Loki out, The bodyguard was still waiting by the door, arms crossed and appearing completely uninterested in the conflict taking place before him. Normally Quentin appreciated that about him, his disinterest in the moral ambiguities of Quentin’s life was kind of necessary for Quentin’s most personal employees, but right now he wished Bucky would take a little more interest and throw Loki out without Quentin having to ask. 

But before Quentin finishes thinking that thought, enter Wade Wilson. The other business partner enters without knocking, standing there and taking in the situation. 

“Aaaand we got a naked intern. Gentlemen, this is highly inappropriate.” Wade sounded like a disapproving father. 

“Bucky, why are you allowing these deranged men into my office?” Quentin stood in front of Peter, hoping that maybe the boy would see him as protection against these other assholes, and he’d want to thank Quentin in the form of his pretty little lips around Quentin’s fat cock--

“They have clearance boss. You don’t want them in, you’ll revoke it.” Bucky’s tone was no nonsense, something Quentin admired and appreciated about him. But he wasn’t gonna be any help, so Quentin just smiled patiently, first at Bucky, then at Wade. 

“Thank you for your concern, Mr. Wilson,” Quentin barked. “But I think you have business elsewhere to attend to and could you please haul Mr. Laufeyson away with you? Preferably in a straight jacket.” 

“I was trying to apologize to the intern and I come in here, and this,” Loki waves to Quentin and the naked Peter, who practically shrinks behind Quentin. 

Quentin raised his hands in the air because obviously he was innocent of any ill intent. “I was about to clean him up, when Mr. Laufeyson stormed in like a bat out of hell and now he is in my office like the wicked witch of the west, frightening the poor kid to death.”

Wade glides over to Quentin and Peter. “You’re both frightening him to death! Gosh, it’s like…. His second day out of high school?” 

Now Peter raises his head. “It’s been longer than that!” 

“One of our hot buttons, huh, kid? Gonna file that one away.” Wade’s voice is friendly as he cranes over to see Peter’s face. “Kid, do you want me to get you a blanket?” Wade asked. 

“I need to clean him up first,” Quentin complains. He didn’t need Wade getting Peter anything. Was Wade trying to steal Peter too?

“Yes, please.” Peter’s voice was small and he stared meekly down at his feet, trying his best to cover himself, pretending to be invisible. So cute, Quentin thought. 

Wade turned and headed to the door, saluting Bucky as he left. Bucky smirked and saluted back. Quentin narrowed his eyes. Did it look like they were friends? Or more than that? Or fucking. Quentin needed to remind himself to put extra surveillance on his body guard. Not because he thought Bucky would betray his safety…. Quentin simply thought it prudent to keep eyes on who his body guard was fucking. One could never be too secure in an age of digital information. 

He dismissed that thought and turned to Peter. “Hey, kid. I’m really sorry about this. I just wanted to get you cleaned up. I can tell you’re scared out of your mind… Just…. Just cooperate with me here, okay?” Quentin’s eyes rake down Peter’s form, enjoying the sight of his silky smooth skin, then back up when the boy turns and looks at him with those baby brown eyes. 

“Mr. Beck?”

Quentin bit his lip, feeling like he was in a dream. “Yes, Peter?”

“This is really weird.” 

Quentin laughs. “It sure is. Come on.” Quentin pushes Peter towards the bathroom. 

“Where are you taking him?” Loki asked. 

“Loki, If you insist on staying, then make him some hot chocolate.”

“Excuse me?” Loki sounded incredulous. 

“You heard me.” Quentin stared hard at Loki, trying to nonverbally remind him that he was the boss. 

“Fine.” Loki’s voice was stone cold bitchy. “But if I do you can’t ask me to leave.”

“Would you have?” Quentin pushed Peter towards the bathroom door. The door was a wood grain panel inset in the wall so that one wouldn’t realize it was a door. It opened automatically when they got close enough. 

“If I got bored.” Loki already sounded bored, but moved to the wet bar anyway. 

Quentin turns his attention to Peter as he pushes him into the spacious, posh bathroom. He grabs a towel and wets it in the sink. Peter is still making a weak attempt to cover his cock, but he seemed more relaxed and was letting Quentin do what he wanted. Quentin lightly pulls on his arm to get him all the way to the sink and begins wiping his chest with the wash cloth. He still had his silk, pink polka dot tie on around his neck. Quentin knew he should remove it but he liked the look of it around Peter’s neck, the way the soft fabric looked against Peter’s skin. 

“You don’t have to be modest. You know you’re completely safe with me, right?” Quentin moves the washcloth up and runs it over Peter’s hair. Quentin is gentle as he washes Peter’s hair with the cloth, running it back under the warm water, and bringing it to Peter’s face, washing off the coffee that had coated him. He stops when Peter shifts, his eyes darting around the bathroom, afraid to meet Quentin’s gaze. He looked like he wanted to say something. Quentin lifted his chin, his hand on Peter’s cheek, until Peter finally made eye contact with him. 

“What is it, Peter?” 

“I really like you, Mr. Beck.” Quentin’s heart melted. 

Quentin smiles. “I like you too, Peter Parker.” His hand lingered on Peter’s cheek, his eyes taking in every inch and nuance of the boy’s face. He thought about kissing him, maybe even taking him right here in the bathroom. All he had to do was close the door, lock it, and the boy probably wouldn’t resist. Those lips, he was begging for it. 

But when he glances out, Loki is standing in the doorway staring right at him. And if anybody could kill an amorous mood, it was Loki. Quentin even sensed Peter tensing up. Quentin assumed he must hate the man now, which was just as well. Loki was holding a steaming cup of hot chocolate in a ceramic green mug. Quentin’s favorite mug. “Are you finished in here?”

Quentin sighed deeply. “One second please.” Out of the corner of his eye, Peter’s lip trembled. Quentin runs his thumb over Peter’s chin, smiles what he hopes is reassuringly, and continues wiping the sticky vanilla coffee from Peter’s naked body. 

“Uh, Mr. Beck? Do you have anything I could wear?”

“Why? Are you tired of standing around naked in my office? You make a very pretty decoration.” 

Quentin watches a myriad of expression flit through Peter’s face. A shock at the bold compliment, surprise, (arousal?) and a pleased, preening look -- (a praise kink? Quentin would figure it out) -- a nervous laughter. “Well it’s just… With Mr. Laaufeyson and all…”

“I understand. They’re very intrusive. But don’t worry. I’ll get rid of them.” He takes Peter’s arm, ready to head out the door, but Peter stops, resisting, pulling out of his grip. Quentin turns back. “What is it?”

“Something to wear?”

“I don’t have anything.” 

“Oh. Then… my boxers, at least?”

Quentin sighs patiently. “You want me to go get them for you?”

“Uh, yes, please. Sir.” The boy stuttered so prettily that it made Quentin smile, removing the usual annoyance he would feel at someone not doing exactly what he wanted them to do. 

He walks to the round black rug and picks up Peter’s boxers. Quentin was definitely going to have to get the kid new clothes if he was going to be Quentin’s personal….. Intern. He hands them to Peter, who grabs them and puts them on in a hurry. 

Quentin watches. “Feel better now?” 

Peter nods. Loki sets the hot chocolate down on Quentin’s desk and takes off his overcoat. “You can wear this.” 

Peter just looks at him, stunned. Quentin interjects-- “Oh, now you’re being nice to him?”

“Only because I failed at getting rid of him.” Loki stands, holding his arm outstretched to hand the overcoat to Peter, who just stares like a deer caught in the headlights. 

Quentin and Loki stare at each other, caught in some internal battle of wills, both refusing to relent. They both snap out of it at the sound of the door opening. The sound of Wade’s foot steps and his loud and cheery humming of the Indiana Jones theme song. He’s carrying a fluffy, pink blankets. 

Quentin rolled his eyes at it. “He doesn’t need a blanket. He needs you two out of here.” 

Wade presents the blanket to Peter. “Now this is my favorite blankie, so I expect it back in mint condition.” He unfolds it and holds it out. “It’s the kind you can wear.”

“You just had that in your office?” Disdain dripped from Loki’s voice. 

“You guys don’t have one? You’re missing out. Now I know what to get you for Christmas.” Wade moved past Quentin and placed the Blanket over Peter. It fit like a hospital gown and looked just as silly. The last thing Quentin wanted to see Peter wearing was a blanket Wade dug out of the wreck of his office. 

“I didn’t know those existed,” Loki drawls. “And yet, that’s exactly what I would have imagined you wearing when you’re alone. You’ve got the fashion sense of a neanderthal.”

“Well, you’re wrong. I’m usually naked when I’m alone. This is for when it’s cold.” He looks at Peter. “And yes, I’m usually naked when I wear it too. So… congratulations to you.” Back to Loki. “And you’re wrong about my fashion sense. I buy right off the mannequins at Macy’s. They have the most classy and well dressed mannequins in town, I assure you. And this….” He makes a big sweeping motion towards Peter, covered with the blanket, then stops, looking suddenly confused. “Oh, no, this is from WalMart. That’s where I got my shoes too.”

“That explains a lot.” 

Quentin was already tired of listening to the two. He stalked back to his desk and sat down. “You guys know I have a lot of work to do and I’d like Peter to assist me while my secretary makes him a new suit. So could you please remove yourselves?”

Wade opens his mouth wide, about to say something but hesitating. “I--- cannot. Not until I am assured that this boy is safe from the evils of the iron witch, Loki.”

“He’s safe with me,” Quentin grits his teeth. He picked up a pen and started playing with it, clicking and unclicking it manically and mapping out the logistics of murdering Wade and what it would take to cover it up, what excuses he would use to explain Wade’s absence. 

Wade apparently doesn’t pick up on it because he continues talking. “Kid, I’m gonna tell you what just happened. So there’s no confusion here. But... maybe we should sit down first.” He grabbed Peter by the arm and pulled him over to Quentin’s brown leather couch, pulling the intern on top of his lap and wrapping his arms around him. 

Quentin clicked the pen and bit into his fist. “What happened is this pile of garbage being rude to this young and promising intern. Peter, say the word and I will throw him out the window for you. He doesn’t need clearance to go out the window, right, Bucky?”

Bucky had been all but ignored and forgotten, still standing guard by the door. He clears his throat and mutters, “Sure, sir.” 

“Okay, I’m just gonna tell him, straight up.” Wade stares at Peter with a deadpan expression on his face. “Quentin called dibs on you.”

“Dibs?” Peter shrank down into the blanket. Only his eyes poked out from the blanket and he looked in horror from Quentin to Wade. 

“Yep. Dibs. And Loki here---” Wade smirked at Loki and then continues stupidly -- because Quentin was definitely going to murder him very soon -- talking as if he were some kind of half-rate lawyer, “He said if he couldn’t have you, then nobody could.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Of course I did.” 

“Because this man is a villain!” Wade shrieked theatrically as he pointed at an unimpressed Loki. He calms down and turns back to Peter, who was in a state of rapt attention, “Also, he’s kind of a bitch. But we love him anyway.” Wade glances at Quentin’s face. The pen he had been clicking snaps in two. “One of us loves him anyway

“That’s true, that’s true,” Quentin murmured, running his fingers over his beard and eyeing Peter. He had calmed down. Decided to change tactics. “I did call dibs on you, Peter. I said, that is the cutest intern I have ever seen. Now does that make me a bad guy?” Quentin implores. 

“No, Mr. Beck.” Peter’s voice is heaven. 

“Then why don’t you come over here and sit on my lap. Okay, honey?” Quentin smiles. 

Peter’s face lights up and he tries to stand, but Wade holds him back, keeping his arms around Peter’s hips. 

Like a man with a death wish, Wade continues talking. “Peter, you need a daddy in this organization. Someone to take care of you and tell you when you can date or not and to give you a curfew to make sure you get home safely at night. To protect you and make sure that Quentin is not inappropriate with you.”

“He’s sitting naked in your lap, Wade,” Quentin shouts. “How is that not inappropriate?”

“Because he is my son!” Wade shouts. 

Peter laughs softly, his body shaking against Wade’s chest. Wade smiles. “See? He likes me the best. I’m clearly the only qualified person here. Isn’t that right, Peter? Pete?”

Peter blushed. He was clearly confused as he glanced between Beck and Wade, feeling as he was being forced to choose sides. Peter didn’t answer and soon his eyes welled up with tears. “I just want to go home.” 

“Peter, you don’t need to go home,” Quentin says, standing up. 

“I’ll take you home,” Wade says. 

Before Quentin could reach the couch, Loki stepped in front of him. Quentin glares at him. “I’ll have Bucky take him home.” 

“Who do you want to take you home? Me or Bucky?” Wade asked him. Peter immediately answered, “You.” 

Wade smiles at him. “Good.”

Quentin just crossed his arms, feeling angry and defeated. He watched as Loki gathered up Peter’s clothes. Wade stood up, holding Peter in his arms, and the three of them leave the office. 

When the door closes and the office is silent, just Bucky and Quentin alone. Quentin is shaking with rage. 

“I’m going to make sure he comes back.”

“Sure, boss.”

“And Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“Get me a new pen.”


	4. Quentin Beck Rules the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin Beck. Quentin fucking Beck. Do you love him? Do you love yourself?

Chapter 4

Wade had taken Peter home that afternoon. The three of them gathered once again in Quentin’s spacious office. Well, the four of them if you counted Bucky. But Quentin usually didn’t, seeing him mainly as an extension of his own power. 

Bucky stood by the door as Quentin had instructed him. He didn’t trust leaving himself alone with Wade or Loki. Not just yet anyway. Maybe it was a bit much to have Bucky on guard every time they were around, but it gave Quentin some reassurance. It made him bolder. 

Wade was parked on the leather couch, leaning on his side, one leg thrown over the arm. Completely unprofessional, disheveled, cheap suit, no tie. Quentin wished he had burning coffee to throw over him. 

Loki stood with his arms crossed, his lips pursed in an expression of distaste, scowling at Quentin. It made Quentin shiver and he had to remind himself who the boss was here. Loki would submit to him. He had to. 

They were both staring at him with disapproving stares. As if Quentin had already fucked up before he even began. Motherfuckers. 

“You think you’re an expert in seduction?” Wade was asking with a deadpan expression that made Quentin want to kick him in the teeth. 

Quentin hadn’t thought much about his strategy and didn’t want to think about it. When Parker had come into the break room, looking so young, innocent and, most of all, powerless. So close that Beck could have snapped his neck if he wanted. But Quentin wasn’t going to kill Parker. That wasn’t his mission. 

Quentin rolled his eyes. “He’s eighteen. He said he liked me. How hard can it be?”

“I just think you’re going a little too fast. Maybe give it more time, let some tension build between you -- the positive kind, Quentin. If you know the difference.”

“Wade,” Quentin grits, staring Wade down unsuccessfully, as the man didn’t appear perturbed in the slightest. “I don’t need a lecture from you. I don’t need your help. I need you to do what I say and trust that I know what I’m doing.” 

Quentin waits for a response from one of them, but they both remain quiet, sharing a glance that Quentin couldn’t quite tell the meaning of. He lets the silence sit for a bit, glad the two of them had ceased their endless criticisms for a few moments of blissful quiet. 

Quentin breaks the silence himself. “Obviously we have every advantage. We know his identity, we know what’s going to happen and we have plenty of time. We can’t fail. I can’t fail.”

“And you foresee nothing going wrong with this plan?” Wade asks, a resigned, defeated note in his voice. 

“As long as you two don’t screw it up.”

“Let’s just kill him and let the world burn,” Loki said bitterly. “I’d rather go to hell than remain in this purgatory with you two, and that spiteful, annoying little twink.”

“Loki, just because you chose to let your world end, doesn’t mean I’m willing to let mine go so easily--” Loki cuts him off sharply. 

“You think I had a choice?” Loki turned his entire body towards Quentin, nearly taking on a fighting stance. Quentin unconsciously backed his chair away, the wheels rolling a few inches before Quentin got a handle on himself. 

“Oh, so you’re not the all powerful Asgardian you try so hard to convince everybody you are? Just because your a god doesn’t mean you have any more control over the world than I do---” Quentin paused for a moment, recognizing the hypocrisy in his statement since he currently had big plans to control the world-- But he was considering Loki. Just because you were born with power doesn’t mean you got to keep it. “See, Loki, that’s why you’re under my control. I’m not going to point out who's obviously the smarter man here.”

“You think you’re smarter than me?” Loki’s anger quickly turned to amusement; his hostile posture relaxing into one of mirth.

“I think I’m your boss and you need to do what I tell you to.”

“You can’t tell me what to do.” Loki seethes. 

“Obviously, I can. I am your boss and you’re going to accept it.” 

“Are you sure you want to mess with a god of Asgard, mortal?”

“Well I won’t be mortal for long so maybe you should be a little nicer, ass guardian.” Maybe Quentin’s words were a little immature for the future ruler of Earth, but Quentin was getting off on his; each insult lobbed Loki’s way giving him a little thrill. 

“You really think he’s going to give you what he’s promised? You’re just a pawn in a game you only think you understand. You’re out of your depth, Quentin.”

“Bucky, please get this raving lunatic out of my office.”

Bucky stirs from his standing position, where he’d been listening to everything, but staring out the floor to ceiling windows at the city below. 

An expression of disgust suffused Loki’s demeanor. “No, thank you. I can leave on my own.” He storms towards the door, casting a nasty glance back at Quentin. The heavy wooden, oak door closes shut with a loud thud. Wade jumps at the sound. Weakling, Quentin thinks. 

“You want me to go after him, boss? Rough him up for you?” Bucky asks, glancing from the door to Quentin, a little uncertainly as if worried he somehow hadn’t done his job. 

“No. I’ll deal with him later.” Quentin rests his chin on his hands, closing his eyes and trying to ignore the anxiety that worked its way through his body like worms crawling through the soil. “Wade.”

“Yes, dear?” Wade bats his eyelashes. 

“You know I’m going to kill you, right?” Quentin’s voice was as serious gravelly steel. At least that’s what he was going for, but as always, it fell flat on Wade. 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” There was laughter in Wade’s voice. Yeah, take it as a joke, dick face. 

“This is not helping.” Quentin covers his face. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Everything is going according to plan.”

“Sure it is, Quentin.” Wade didn’t sound convinced. 

“He told me, in the bathroom, that he liked me. You interfered. You didn’t need to do that. Both of you. You need to stop treating me like some idiot who's going to screw this up.” 

Wade stands up and stretches. He ends with his hands on his head and looks at Quentin like he’s trying to hold back a monologue. Then he drops his arms and shrugs and moves to the door. 

When he leaves, Quentin heaves a sigh of relief. He didn’t want to hear any more shit from anyone today. 

But his desires were once again thwarted when, not twenty minutes later, SHIELD Director Nick Fury was standing in his office and throwing a copy of The Daily Bugle on his desk. 

Quentin reads the headline and nearly shits himself. “This is complete bullshit!”

Mysterio Inc. linked to bank robberies. 

Quentin looks at fury, doing his best to look outraged like an innocent person would. “You don’t seriously believe this nonsense, do you? This is a Daily Bugle Article. You know that man is clearly deranged.” 

“I know that whoever is performing these rather colorful bank robberies is deranged. Who dresses in a green suit and spews green dust everywhere?” Fury’s one eye stared at him accusingly. 

Quentin huffs. “Well, it’s piqued my curiosity. If I found out anything, I’ll let you know. And if this is the only reason you came by then I’m going to have to ask you to leave because I have important things to do today. So thank you, Director Fury, as always for the pleasure of your company--”

“Something is different about you.” 

“What do you mean? What’s different? I’ve been working out, is it making a difference? Can you tell? Are you admiring my physique, Mr. Fury?”

“You wish. Are you on drugs, Mr. Beck?”

Quentin laughs. “What are you, the DEA now? I’m just an ordinary business man. And no, I do not imbibe.”

“Then what’s changed about you? What new thing is happening in your life, Beck?”

“You sound so suspicious. Director Fury.” Quentin looks at him. Fury looks back. “I’m not connected to these ridiculous bank robberies and I’m not on drugs.”

“I only believe one of those things. I don’t imagine you, Wade Wilson and Loki Laufeyson, smoking a bowl together after work--”

Quentin laughs, sounding a little too loud, a little too manic. “It blows your mind to think that people can actually enjoy their lives, Fury? Instead of being on a constant hunt for trouble like some cosmic police officer. I think you need a vacation.”

“Maybe I do.”

Quentin gets up from his desk and starts gathering his stuff. He needed to get out of this stifling office and someplace where nobody was going to fucking bother him. “I’m glad we agree on something. Now if you don’t mind, I need to get going.”

Fury looks at him suspiciously. “You’re a terrible liar, Mr. Beck. If you’re hiding something, I’m gonna figure it out.”

“I think you’re overstepping your bounds, Director Fury. I’m a free citizen and I think this would be considered harassment. People might think you were in Tony Stark’s pocket conducting some corporate espionage. Making sure your benefactor stays Jester King of the corporate world. Now you should go before I consider filing a lawsuit against you.” 

“Sure, Mr. Beck. Gonna sic some lawyers on my ass? Go for it.” Fury steps up close and intimidating, getting right in Beck’s face. Quentin stands his ground, trying to make his eyes like steel, not backing away. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? Think you’re the coolest kid on the block?”

“Nope.” Quentin grins. “Just too cool for you.”

Fury smirks and jabs a finger into Beck’s chest. “I’m watching you.”

Later, after Fury has left and Quentin has splashed water on his face in the bathroom, he calls Bucky over. The man stalks towards him like some kind of angry cat. 

“I want you to pick up the suit I ordered and deliver it to Peter. And bring him to my apartment if he comes willingly.”

“You don’t want me to just throw him over my shoulder, old fashion style?”

“Hmmm, tempting. But no. Only if he says yes.”

Bucky leaves and Quentin feels uncomfortably vulnerable. He knew how easily one could die and now that he knew, he couldn’t seem to forget it. 

Down in the vast, silver floored lobby of Mysterio Inc., yet another surprise awaited him. In the coffee shop at the front of the building, a small crowd buzzes around Tony Stark. Quentin glared. The Mysterio Inc. employees all seemed too happy to see Mr. Stark, buzzing around, asking questions, and getting his autograph. 

When they notice him approach, they disperse, and Tony turns his attention to him. 

“Did you do it?” Tony asked accusingly. 

Quentin rolled his eyes. “You know, I just got chewed out by Fury. I don’t need to explain myself to you too.” His voice darkened. “Especially since I don’t work for you anymore.”

“Lucky that. So you’re denying it? Of course you are. Why would you admit it?”

“Go fuck yourself, Tony.”

“Okay, Quentin. It’s your first company. Your first bullshit news article, assuming you’re innocent. If you are, then you’re cleared and it’s water under the bridge. They say worse stuff about me. So don’t worry about it, buddy.”

“Oh, I’m not. Not at all. I know that I have nothing to worry about.” Quentin played innocent. He didn’t like being accused of things. Even if he had actually done those things. 

Tony circles around him like a shark, eyes raking him up and down. Probably looking for blood. Quentin waits for an insult. “Have you been working out?”

“No… Does it look like I have?”

“Something different about you.”

“Just feeling more confident I guess.” Quentin peers suspiciously at Tony. “Are you and Fury talking about me behind my back?”

“Like grade schoolers? No, Beck. You’ll never be on of the popular kids. You’re a temporary blip.” Quentin’s ears perk up at the mention of ‘blip’ but Tony continues obliviously as if that word meant nothing to him. It gave Quentin a smug reminder that he knew a future Tony Stark was ignorant of. 

Tony continues, like the asshole he is, “Someone’s finally talking about you. Finally getting the attention you seem to think you deserve and maybe that’s making you more confident. It looks good on you. You look like a changed man. It looks good.”

Right as Quentin’s face brightened up at the compliment -- Tony had never praised him or given him any kind of compliment before -- Tony grabbed his arm and pushes him up against the pillar. “Did you rob those banks?”

“What? No! That article is complete bullshit. I’m not a thief, Tony. I’m not a killer. You know that! You know me.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem. I know you.” Tony squeezed his arm and he must’ve had on some piece of the iron man suit because his grip was like a vice and it hurt. “Are you connected in any way to those bank robberies? If you are, I will find out soon and it would be much smarter, and much less painful for you to confess right now.”

“Tony! You’re hurting me.”

“I’m just warning you that if you did, it won’t only be SHIELD coming down on you hard. It’ll be me too. I will end you. I will fuck you and your company so hard, you will never see the light of day again, and the world will forget Quentin Beck even existed. Got it?” 

Quentin looked away, seething. First SHIELD and now Iron Man was threatening to come down on him? Quentin would wipe them all away. The world didn’t need Tony Stark. 

Tony snaps his fingers in front of Beck’s face. “Earth to Beck. Am I losing you? Is my threat boring you?” Tony had the audacity to say that despite that he was the one assaulting Beck. Quentin owed him nothing. 

“Geez, Tony.” Beck pushes Tony away. “What the fuck, man. Can you see this from my point of view? Knowing I’m fucking innocent and you’re threatening me like I’m some kind of escaped convict?”

“Consider this a warning, Beck.” Tony backs away; a lion that has gotten bored with its prey. 

“I don’t need a warning!” Beck calls out as Tony exits the building. He feels stupid and wishes he had said something more clever… or scathing. Quentin watches as he gets into his car and drives away. 

“Asshole,” he mutters under his breath. 

By the time Quentin got back to his apartment, he was fucking exhausted. He was tired of dealing with everybody. He didn’t want to see any of those people. Everyone in the whole world could go fuck off and die, for all he cared right now. Quentin Beck was fed up and tired of taking other people's shit. 

Pretending to run a massive corporation was harder than it looked. It seemed silly to have to put on such a front, but until Quentin got the go ahead to set the real plan in motion, he’d have to pass it off as real so that nosy people like Fury wouldn’t keep poking around. 

He was so stressed that he started thinking, maybe he should smoke a bowl of weed? Quentin had smoked a few times back in college but had never taken to it because it had made him too paranoid. 

If it was supposed to be relaxing, for him it just didn’t work. But he wouldn’t mind trying it anyway. Right now, he just needed to cool his head. 

He pours himself a small glass of scotch and downs it, hoping it would take the edge off. Afterwards he blends himself up a green smoothie, as if that might make up for the alcohol. When he worked at Stark Industries, he’d seen Tony drinking these and it just seemed like a good idea. Quentin was a lot younger at the time and always watching Tony to see how he got so successful. He didn’t hate Tony back then like he did now. 

But still. He’d kept the green smoothie habit. He couldn’t eradicate every influence the man had had on him. 

When he finishes his smoothie, he changes into workout clothes. He’s got a personal gym in his apartment, all grays. Gray workout mat, black punching bags, a wall lined with mirrors, and an olympic weight lifting set. 

He works up a sweat, cardio, some heavy lifting, then putting on his boxing gloves and practicing punches and kicks on the mat. He’s focused as he makes sure every punch and kick lands correctly and with the most power. Quentin would never be as strong as a superhero. It pained him to know that the weak little twink that was coming over, if he chose to accept, would soon get his powers and become stronger than Beck could ever hope to be, no matter how he worked out. 

Life just wasn’t fair like that. So Quentin had to make his own luck. He wasn’t born with the advantages of a Tony Stark or gifted them by some cosmic accident like Peter Parker. 

He hits the bag particularly hard at the thought of Peter Parker. He punches and kicks viciously, sweat flying off his body and pouring down his hard, lean muscles. If Quentin Beck was anything, it was focused. Determined. He continues hitting the bag; thud, thud, thud. He hit as hard as he could, trying to drown out a memory that threatened to rise to the surface of his consciousness. 

Quentin hanging, held aloft by Spider-Man. Peter twisting his arm effortlessly and hurling Quentin from across the room. The lightning behind his eyes as his back hit the wall and Quentin stopped being a person and simply existed as a reverberating mass of vibration and red hot pain that suffused his being, leaving nothing of his consciousness. Quentin had no idea how long he existed like that. 

Quentin ripped the gloves from his hands and threw them across the room. They hit the wall and landed softly. 

Quentin had no idea if Peter would ever show up. If he didn’t, maybe Quentin would drive to his house in the middle of the night and fuck the kid senseless in his childhood bed. 

Quentin showered in freezing cold water. But even that couldn’t cool his ire. Twenty minutes later, he’s cleaned up and dressed nicely; a soft green cashmere sweater and gray slacks. His mouth smelled of spearmint, a faint scent of after shave, and a spritz of cologne with notes of cinnamon and bergamot. 

His anger had cooled and now he was left feeling like cold steel on the inside. Was he nervous about Peter? No. No he wasn’t. Peter had already told Quentin that he liked him…. He would be easy to manipulate. 

But as soon as the doorbell rings, alerting him that he had company, his confidence drooped. The energy his workout had given him deserted him, leaving him only with an empty feeling of anxiousness. 

Bucky and Peter com in together. Bucky hangs back and gives Quentin a thumbs up. Quentin nodded to him, giving him permission to leave and remain on standby should Beck have need of him. 

Peter looked adorable in the suit Quentin had picked out and had made for him that afternoon. He looked sharp, fashionable. Much improved from the suit he’d worn into work that day, something he probably picked up at Macy’s. Peter was looking at Quentin with wide, innocent eyes. His nervous excitement was palpable, like an energy field surrounding him. 

“Hi, Mr. Beck.”

Beck smiles. “Peter, please. Call me Quentin.”

“Uh… yes sir, Mr. Beck.” Peter stood awkwardly in the doorway. The tension was thick between them, for very different reasons. Quentin didn’t know everything about Peter Parker, but at age eighteen, he was still a virgin. That much was obvious. 

“Do you want to come sit down on the couch with me?” Quentin holds out his hand and after a nervous glance, Peter takes it. 

They settle onto the couch. Peter sitting awkwardly with his hands in his lap, with Beck beside him, his arm outstretched on the back, leaning towards Peter. The air is still thick, the ice not quite broken. Despite that, there was an air of comfortable intimacy between them that somehow worked. Peter was young and nervous and crushing on Quentin. Quentin was still cold inside from sitting next to the boy who killed him. 

Not everybody got the opportunity to fuck their killer. So being this close to Peter… was exhilarating. Beck touched the back of Peter’s head, running his fingers through the soft hair. Peter inhales and his eyes widen in a way that indicated he was eager to be touched and wanted more. He looked at Quentin with such an eager expression that it sent a shiver of pleasure through Quentin. 

Quentin wraps his hand around the back of Peter’s neck. “I’m really sorry about today, Peter.” 

“Oh…” Peter leans into Beck’s touch, leaning closer, wanting more, but then glancing away after an awkward silence, as if he had some kind of shame about the events of the day. The boy did get coffee poured over his head. “I just thought I did something wrong.”

“Not at all. Peter, you did nothing wrong. That man’s a menace.” Beck’s voice was firm, wanting Peter to know that Beck was on his side. 

“Wade was really nice though.”

Ugh. That was not something Quentin wanted to hear. He was still pissed at Wade, feeling like he’d made Quentin look like an asshole in front of Peter. Quentin internally bristles. Plus the fact that Peter was on first person terms with Wade already and yet he still hadn’t called Beck by his first name. 

Beck smiles in a way that didn’t reach his eyes. He could feel it. Quentin turned his head away so he could hide his expression of annoyance off his face. Maybe he should get Peter drunk? 

“Peter, can I get you something to drink?” He lets his hand run down Peter’s back as he stands to move towards the kitchen. 

“Maybe some water?”

Quentin frowns at him. “How about a vodka tonic?”

“Okay.”

Quentin moves into the kitchen to prepare the drinks. Stealing a glance back at Peter on the couch, he thought it was cute the way Peter squirmed uncomfortably. He was so charmingly awkward and Quentin couldn’t help but like him even though Peter was somebody he’d much rather hate. 

“Mr. Beck, can I…. Can I kiss you?”

“Sure, Peter.” 

Peter moves in for the kiss, but Quentin leans back. Peter laughs awkwardly and moves further in, losing his balance when Quentin wrapped his arms around Peter’s waist and pulled him into his lap. Peter straddled him and Quentin felt an immense feeling of satisfaction having Peter in his arms. 

For a long time they both just sit like that and look at each other. Though they said nothing, their faces communicated volumes. Their faces reacting to each other. Peter’s eye quirks and he flutters his lashes and in response Quentin squints his eyes and smiles. Peter’s eyes glance around shyly, then linger on Quentin’s lips. When his eyes meet Quentin’s again, neither of them can look away. They remain there for a time, neither wanting to break the intimate moment between them. 

Finally, it’s too much for him and Peter goes in for the kiss. Pressing his lips firmly against Quentin’s. Quentin doesn’t kiss back, just let’s Peter kiss him in this awkward, innocent way. 

When Peter pulls back, he looks worried, searching Quentin’s face for signs of rejection. This time, Quentin gives him nothing, his face expressionless, unaffected by the kiss. Quentin can see the insecurity and worry in the boy’s eyes and Quentin finds that exciting. He likes seeing Peter like this. At his mercy. 

He stares at Peter’s face finding the innocence of it disturbing. This is the kid who kills him…. Who killed him. He shouldn’t look so cute and innocent and attractive. 

All those obnoxious quips he used to spout as he knocked Quentin around like a rag doll, and breaking his precious equipment. Quentin’s heart sped up at the memory of Spider-Man holding him over a bridge. Quentin had felt so weak, felt his mortality melting like butter in the face of Spider-Man’s strength. And it wasn’t fair. But such was life. But Peter wasn’t Spider-Man yet. He feels the tension increasing and needs to calm himself. 

He grabs Peter’s hips in a bruising grip. He has to resist the urge to get his revenge on the little twink for all the insults, and slights, and pain he had caused for Quentin over the years. He could throw him down and take him hard and fast and with no mercy. Brutal and quick, as if the boy was nothing but some throwaway sex toy. 

But Quentin isn’t going to do that. 

Before the silence becomes unbearable, he pulls Peter forward and kisses him, pushing his tongue past Peter’s lips. The kiss is filthy, his tongue probing in and out, as if Quentin was fucking him with his tongue. 

Peter moans. His face is flushed and Quentin can tell he is hard beneath his pants. Quentin smirked. So the little twink was turned on by rough treatment? 

He pushed his hands under Peter’s shirt, rubbing his back and chest. He loved watching Peter react to the touching with his little moans of pleasure and pink flush across his face. 

“You like this, Peter?”

Peter bites his lip and nods. 

“Tell me what you like.” Beck grins as his thumb swipes over Peter’s nipple and he gasps. 

“Ah--! I like that.” 

“Don’t you have any fantasies? Please tell me. You have no idea how badly I want to know.”

Peter puts his hands around Quentin’s neck and leaned his face in close, forehead resting on Beck’s. Going for that intimate moment. Beck smiles and rubs circles over his back. “You’re too embarrassed to tell me?”

Quentin had hated Spider-Man for so long. But when Peter Parker looked at him the way he was looking at him now, with that hungry expression on his face, and Quentin knowing it was hunger for him… That certainly made the task of seducing him to Quentin’s side a lot easier. Maybe Peter Parker wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe Mysterio, AKA Quentin Beck, could show him a much better path. 

“Mr. Beck, I….” Peter looks away, embarrassed. Quentin gently pushes his face back. 

“Hey, it’s just the two of us here. You can trust me.” Yeah, Beck could get the hang of this. He touched Peter’s face softly, swiping his thumb over the boy’s lips. Peter’s face lights up and Beck takes that as encouragement for more, and pushes his thumb into Peter’s mouth. 

“Is this what you want, Peter?” 

He thrusts his thumb in and out and to his delight, Peter wrapped his lips around it, closing his eyes and sucking eagerly. 

“Peter, I….” Quentin groans because it felt physically difficult for him to stop or in any way put the brakes on where this was going. “I feel like I should buy you dinner first.” 

Peter opens his eyes and pulled back, his face falling, that eager expression of his being replaced by a dismayed pout. “Do you not want me?”

“No, no, no, Peter. That isn’t it at all.” Quentin puts his hand on Peter’s cheek, turning his face back, his thumb this time wiping a tear forming in the corner of Peter’s eye. “Do you have any idea how adorable you are? How badly I want you?”

More tears spill from Peter’s eyes. “But I don’t want to be adorable. I want you to.. To ffff... “

Quentin chuckles. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Is that wrong of me?”

“Not at all.” He pulls Peter closer, wrapping his arms tightly around the boy, running his hands over his back reassuringly. “I want to give you more than that.” Quentin was aroused for sure, but more than that, he was intrigued. It was a strange thing to have the future Spider-Man in his arms expressing such insecurity. If only the kid knew. But he didn’t. And Quentin found that delicious. 

“But why me? I didn’t think in my entire life…. That anybody like you would even notice somebody like me.” 

“How could I not notice you?”

“Nobody’s ever looked at me the way you do.” 

Quentin’s face went blank. Like they want to murder you? he thought. Or fuck you into oblivion. Because Quentin wanted both. “And… how is that?” Fuck, what did Peter see when Quentin looked at him? He didn’t have his spidey-sense yet, thank the devil for that. 

Peter looks up, his face wet with tears. “Like I’m a somebody. Like I… actually exist as more than someone to scoff at or ignore… or, or…”

“Or throw coffee on?” Maybe that was a cruel comment to make because Peter hid his face against Quentin’s chest and started crying harder. Quentin held him tightly and rocked him, kissing him on the top of his head and tilting his face back to give him kisses around his eyes and cheeks and mouth. 

Peter speaks through his sobs, “But it’s like… that’s what I should expect. Loki was scary, but it wasn’t even a surprise -- But you… you are a surprise.”

“Peter, that is the saddest thing I’ve ever heard. I like you so much. So much more than I should. It’s only been two days, and--”

“But I feel like I’ve known you longer.” 

“You have?” A chill goes through Quentin’s body. 

“I just… really want to be close to you and I don’t know why. And I know I shouldn’t!”

“Well, you are close to me now. You’re the closest to anyone I have in my life right now.” He lifts Peter’s chin and kisses him sweetly. “And you are a somebody. You’re my somebody.”

They spend the rest of their evening like that. Talking intimately and wrapped in each other’s arms. Quentin was aroused the whole time, but it felt so good being close to another human being. Especially after the day that he’d had. Having Peter so open and vulnerable in his arms felt like a Christmas present for Quentin to unwrap at his leisure. 

But at some point their night had to end. Peter’s phone lit up with a text from his Aunt May. 

“I told her I’d be home before it gets too late…” Peter says apologetically. “I should get home before I worry her… She’s probably waiting up for me.” 

“You’re an adult now, Peter.” 

“I know! I know! I am… I just… I feel bad worrying her, you know?”

“I get it.” Quentin smiles and kisses him on the forehead. “You’re such a good kid.”

“Not a kid anymore, Mr. Beck.”

Quentin laughs and the two of them get up. Quentin messages Bucky who arrives less than two minutes later. 

“Bucky will take you back.” Quentin didn’t want to remove his hands from Peter’s waist. The two of them couldn’t stop staring at each other. 

“Thanks, Mr. Beck… I mean, Quentin.” Peter raises up on his toes, leaning his body into Quentin’s. Quentin thought it was adorable the way the boy preened for a kiss and Quentin didn’t disappoint him. He wraps his arm around Peter’s waist and kisses him. A filthy, deep kiss that leaves Peter swooning in his arms. 

Peter stumbles towards the door where Bucky was waiting. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow at work, Peter?”

“Yes, sir. I’ll be there.” 

After Peter leaves, Quentin is left alone with his own thoughts. The quiet emptiness of his apartment suddenly felt overwhelming, overpowering. As if Quentin hadn’t acknowledge the emptiness of it before. He had simply ignored it, occupying his consciousness with science and tech and trying to be something more than he was. Peter’s presence and then absence suddenly highlighted that. Exposed the lack of intimacy in Quentin’s life. 

He sighs loudly, the sound of his breath filling the emptiness. Okay, maybe Quentin was lonely. He wanted somebody in his life, some relationships that didn’t feel adversarial in one way or another. 

But was Peter Parker that relationship? 

No. 

No. 

He couldn’t be. 

In another timeline, Peter Parker had killed Quentin. Killed. As in, made dead. And Quentin was still haunted by the memory of his own death. No living person should know what it felt like to die. 

Quentin did and he wished he could forget. 

Before Quentin can decide to take a shower and find a way to escape from these thoughts, he feels disoriented. A buzzing dizziness overtakes him. 

A swirling red mist clouds his vision. Quentin knew what this was. Quentin was ready. Or at least he thought he was ready for this visit. 

The vibrations coming up from the ground reverberat through his entire body, down to the marrow in his bones. It was like some song coming straight from hell, a deep base that grabbed him. 

Quentin is starting to freak out. He repeatedly tells himself he can handle this -- but the waves sweep him along and he feels like a rag doll being carried in the wind. His mortal body will never be more than dust, so frail, so helpless -- he felt all this in a split second, before finding himself kneeling in front of the devil himself. 

Mephisto’s presence was overwhelming. Being in his presence was like being on the edge of pain, or the edge of an orgasm, threatening to break over, making Quentin crave a release. 

Mephisto sat on a throne formed as if from lava. Red robes covering the demon’s red skin, his face like the devil of olden times, sharp and piercing. Swirling black hair around his shoulders, a powerful physique that could snap a mortal man in two. Quentin was afraid to look him in the eyes and instead his gaze settled on the demon’s knees. 

“My Lord,” Quentin said, quick to show proper obeissance to his benefactor. To the entity that had given him a ticket out of hell. He didn’t really know what to call him. Mephisto seemed to casual and Quentin decided to err on the side of respect. 

“You have the boy?”

“He’s so close. It’s going to take time to corrupt him, but he’s taken the bait and I can guide him down the path of darkness.” 

“You know what happens if you fail.” Mephisto points to a small, purple vial, screaming with the piece of Quentin’s soul that he’d traded to Mephisto to get out of hell. As if Quentin needed a reminder. “I will give you all the powers you ask for if you corrupt the boy’s soul.” 

“He’s young and dumb in the ways of the world. You will have his soul. I promises you. He isn’t Spider-Man yet and he’s naive.”

“I want more than promises. You’ll give me regular updates. Do not waste the powers I am about to give you.” Mephisto leans forward and Quentin sits up on his knees because he’s about to get powers….! “Do you know why you’re my favorite, Quentin?”

“I’m your favorite?”

“Do you know why I put you in charge over the other two?”

“Because I’m smarter and more competent?”

Mephisto laughs. A deep reverberating sound. “It’s because you’re an idiot and you don’t see it. The other three are far more interesting mortals. They have potential and qualities that far surpass your own, Quentin. By orders of magnitude. And that’s why I put you over them. I find it compelling to watch three great men struggle under the incompetence of another.”

“Are you serious?” Well that certainly didn’t boost Quentin’s confidence much. 

“I am the Lord of Hell. Do you think I would simply be fucking with you?”

Quentin thinks about what Mephisto just told him. “Well…. Yes.” Mephisto was fucking with him, right? “You’re a demon. You’re trying to make me insecure. Make sure my ego doesn’t get over inflated?”

Mephisto chuckles. “You don’t believe me.” He sits back on his throne, amused. “I won’t stop you from telling yourself any story your puny mind wants to hear.” 

“I don’t believe it.” Quentin looked Mephisto in the eyes for about three seconds of bravado -- yeah, he was standing up to Mephisto. But then he looks away, because fuck that guy was scary and there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d win that game. He shifts uncomfortably, the lava stone of the floor starting to hurt his knees. He gets to his feet. “Okay, but… I still get the powers, right?”

Mephisto snaps his fingers. 

Quentin feels the power rushing through his body and it was euphoric. 

He looks over at the screaming part of his soul, the part he’d given up for this power, for this second chance at life. Spider-Man had killed him and first he was resurrected and sent to the past to change things. Now he had powers!

He would make the world better. Make things feel right again. Give the world the hero it deserves rather than some overpowered insecure teenager. 

“Thank you, Master.” Quentin bows once more. 

“Quentin?” Beck snaps to attention. Mephisto continues, “Wade was right. You were moving too fast.” 

“Have you been watching us?”

“We’re done here.” 

“Yes, Master.” Quentin bows, trying hard to show his gratefulness through his body language. He could play minion if it got him what he wanted. 

Mephisto looks completely uninterested in his display and waves his hands, sending Quentin back to the mortal world. 

When Quentin stood back on his feet, alone in his apartment, he grounds himself. He has to make sure he isn’t going crazy. Touching the ground, wanting to feel what was real now. 

He stretches out his arms, wanting to feel the full extent of his powers. 

The cold steel and wood of his apartment fade away and Quentin is surrounded by the cosmos. And under his feet was the Earth. 

With his newfound power, nothing could stop him. 

Mephisto’s words float into his consciousness. About him being an idiot and Wade and Loki suffering under his incompetence? Fuck that guy, Quentin thought. Fuck. That. Guy. Fuck Mephisto. Thanks for the powers, jerk, but Quentin was going to ignore that little snippet of his interaction with the powerful demon. 

Quentin experienced a brief worry that if Mephisto had been watching the debacle that took place in his office earlier, could he read Quentin’s thoughts? That thought was too stressful to contemplate, so Quentin chose to stop thinking about it immediately. Demons fuck with humans. It was a thing they did and Mephisto was fucking with him. 

This is why it was always better to be the one with the biggest stick. Fuck Tony Stark too. Quentin hated hearing the man’s voice in his head, a testament to the lingering influence he had over Quentin from working for him so long. 

Quentin didn’t have the biggest stick, but at least under Mephisto he’d have the second biggest one. Assuming things went according to plan. And they would. Quentin had to believe they would. He wouldn’t allow himself to think of the alternative. 

But soon Quentin would be ruling the world and nothing Mephisto said mattered. A deal was a deal. A piece of his soul for real powers and a second chance. 

Only one insect. Quentin couldn’t stop Peter from becoming Spider-Man because that would cause the end of the world. For Mysterio to rule Earth, it needed to be intact. But once Quentin had corrupted the boy’s soul and sent him to hell, Mysterio would be left as the one consolidated power on Earth. 

He had a lot of work to do. 

Where he’d only pretended before, now his power was real. Mysterio was real. Quentin Beck would be the future.


End file.
